


getting soft

by killmongersgurl



Series: redeemed!softboi [18]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killmongersgurl/pseuds/killmongersgurl





	1. Chapter 1

Erik really needed to invest in some bonnets. Maybe just one or even two would be enough. Only a few to keep stashed away in the drawer beside his bed or in the bathroom cabinet. Just in case, y’know, you slept over again.

It was strange for that to be his first thought as he groggily blinked up at his ceiling. He had woken up pretty early without his alarm this morning, probably a bit too early for him to be up on a Wednesday without any help, though admittedly not much earlier than the alarm on his phone had been set up to ring. It was early enough, however, for him to know that he had been laying in bed for at least half an hour. Although he had to admit that because he had spent most of this time contemplating whether or not he should call out of work just to continue laying with you as his arm fell asleep under your body, his timing may have been skewed.

Maybe it was 45 minutes.

He resisted the urge to look at your sleeping form, cuddled up at his side with a leg thrown over him as you hugged him close. He continued to stare at the ceiling instead, lightly tugging at his dreads as his fingers twitched over the curve of your ass. After a moment of contemplation, he finally gripped your ass and pressed you closer to himself.

You released a soft sigh.

He bit back a smile.

 _A fucking smile_.

Since when did he, a real nigga,  _smile_  when a woman did anything other than make him cum or walk past him with a fat ass? And even then, it was a smirk. It was always a smirk, or maybe even a chuckle. Not a  _smile_.

Erik clapped a hand over his face, swallowing a groan down because he didn’t want to wake you. He couldn’t even remember the last time he cared enough to not wake a woman up and out of their sleep as they slept beside him, especially when they were in  _his_  bed. Had it been anyone else, he would have already kicked them out by now and shut the door in their face. If he was up, best believe they‘d be out; he had no time or room to hoard women in his home. Yet there he was: letting you sleep away in his bed and  _cuddling_  with you as you did it.

The two of you hadn’t even fucked last night, or at all for that matter. Despite how many times you hung out and went on little dates, you two hadn’t even had a chance to have sex once. Just the thought of you alone got his dick semi-hard before, during, and after each meeting, and last night was no different. All you did was gorge yourselves on junk food while watching some corny anime, debate and roast each other over said corny anime, before engaging in a lazy make out session on the couch that gradually made its way to his bed. The memory of your sweet lips moving slowly with his as he swallowed your soft moans and held you close as you ground yourself against his body made his stomach t—

 _No_. No stomach turning. He was a  _real nigga_. Thug life and all that shit— _the_ _realest_   _nigga_. He had killed people not too long before meeting you, and he had the potential to do it again. He had done it all while breaking hearts and fucking women over without a care. He was  _Killmonger_. He couldn’t already be sprung off of you, especially when you hadn’t fucked yet. And he wasn’t.

Real. Nigga. Shit.

And yet at least ten more minutes had passed as he continued to question his decision to call out of work, all because he just wanted to lay with you in peace. It was fucking with him just how much he was feeling you—he  _liked_  you. A lot. The fact that the two of you hadn’t even had a chance to have sex yet kept popping up in his head, but he was actually  _cool_  with not touching you because he liked the way your brain worked. He liked riling you up and enticing you into an argument because, he had to be honest, your wit made his dick twitch with excitement. He was fucked and couldn’t find it in himself to care, because he liked holding you close as you slept beside him and thinking about those fucking bonnets and scarves he had to buy after you leave. It wasn’t that he wasn’t sprung off of your pussy because he hadn’t gotten a chance to touch you intimately yet.

It was the fact that he was just sprung off of  _you_.

Erik shook his head as he finally looked to you.

_He was fucked._

The first blaring note of his alarm made him jump. He shot a hand out and grabbed his phone, shutting the alarm off before it could continue. He held his breath as you shifted beside him, a short sigh slipping past his lips once you relaxed into his hold once again. He searched T’Challa’s name up, pressed the phone icon, held the phone to his ear, and waited.

“ _Erik_ ,” T’Challa answered. His voice was bright and chipper, almost like he had been waiting for his cousin to call. “ _To what do I owe this surprise phone call? Is everything okay?_ ”

“Yeah, everythin’s cool,” Erik whispered. He glanced at you and quietly cleared his throat. “Listen, T., I’m callin’ to let you know that I won’t be able to make it in for that meetin’ today.”

“ _May I ask why?_ ”

“No, you may fuckin’ not.”

“ _You are my advisor. My trusted advisor. I reserve the right to know why you won’t be able to make it in_.”

“Why’d you ask if you could ask then, nigga?”

“ _Because it’s polite, and kings are always polite. Which is why you are the trusted advisor_.”

The teasing tone in T’Challa’s voice almost made Erik chuckle. He resigned himself to snorting. “Whatever, man. I got caught up in someone—  _thing_. I got caught up in  _something_.”

“ _Do you need my help? Are you safe?_ ”

“Nah, it’s nothin’ dangerous.” He released his grip on your ass to slip his hand underneath your shirt, the padding of his fingertips gently massaging your hip and lower back. “Have Shuri follow you around and take notes for me, though. I’ll handle the rest tomorrow.”

A sigh. “ _Shuri? Can I have Ayo instead?_ ”

“Nah. If you don’t want your sister, ask Okoye. I’ve been workin’ with her lately and—“

Your low moan touched Erik’s ears. He watched as you burrowed yourself deeper into him, his fingers digging into your flesh as you released a yawn into his chest. “Erik?”

Erik’s stomach turned.

T’Challa coughed. “ _Is… Is that Y/N?_ ”

Erik ignored him.

You blinked up at him as he watched you, your leg moving to bring him even closer to yourself. It was impossible at this point, but you liked trying. “It’s too early. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“Nothin’s wrong, princess.”

T’Challa’s squeak went unnoticed.

The corners of your mouth curved up and a little smile of his own touched his lips, one that he didn’t feel the need to fight off as you looked up at him like that. You shouldn’t have had him calling you ‘ _princess_ ’ and lowering his voice to his gentlest tone just to address you. This was a position nobody should have had the power to put him in because, once again, he was a real nigga. A hard nigga. A hard nigga going…  _soft_.

 _Soft_.

A nigga falling for you.

Erik swallowed and shook that off. “I just had to call my cousin real quick.”

“Is he okay?”

“ _Tell her I’m fine_ ,” T’Challa chimed in.

“He’s good,” Erik answered.

“ _Also, ask her why she couldn’t wait just one more week before shacking up with you. I now owe Shuri ten—”_

“It’s all good. Everybody’s good.” Erik placed a kiss onto your forehead. It was a bit chaste and not as lingering as you would have liked, but it made your stomach turn all the same as he pulled away to meet your eyes. “Just go back to sleep, princess.”

 _Fuck_. There he went again with that nickname. He couldn’t even remember where he got it from, or when he’d gotten comfortable enough to stop calling you that in his head to saying it for you to hear. But as your smile grew and stretched into a full-blown grin, he honestly couldn’t find it in himself to care very much.

A short moment passed as you watched one another in a comfortable silence. You grabbed his wrist, slipping his hand out of your shirt to place it flat onto your ass. You laced your fingers over his. “I’m not tired anymore.”

Your lips met in a slow and lazy kiss, the perfect match for such a relaxed morning.

You slipped a soft moan into his mouth. “Your breath smells, nigga.”

“So does yours.”

“Well, you put ya tongue in my mouth.”

“You sucked it.”

Erik grinned as you laughed into his mouth. He could do this laughing-and-kissing and laughing-into-each-other’s-mouths-while-kissing shit all day, and he absolutely planned to do so. Thank goodness he called T’Challa.

His heart dropped.

 _T’Challa_.

Erik placed one last kiss onto your lips before pulling away. He placed the phone over his ear with a slight wince and cleared his throat. He rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling. “Yo, T., you still there?”

“ _‘Princess’, cousin_?”

“Bye, nigga.”

T’Challa laughed. “ _Wait_ —!”

Erik ended the call and set the phone aside, allowing himself to indulge in the way you looked at him. This was a nice contrast to how women normally looked at him. There was nothing lustful, distrusting, even hateful about this. This was sweet and innocent, two things that he would have never thought he’d be into. And yet there you were.

You unlinked your fingers with his, reaching up to tug at his beard before taking his face into your hand. His soft groan forced you to bite your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from smiling too hard. “I like ‘princess’.”

“I’ll be sure to call you that more often, then.”

He met your lips in another kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik should have known that something was up when he arrived to work this morning. It wasn’t everyday that the king and princess of Wakanda stood at the entrance of one of their most successful outreach centers with the biggest smiles on their faces. The last time they’d done this was during the center’s grand opening, and to see them standing beside the center’s assigned Dora, just  _watching him_  as he approached them made him uncomfortable.

It wasn’t normal.

It didn’t feel right.

“Wait, I thought that  _I_  was the princess.”

“No, sister. This is a different type of princess, one that I would prefer you not to indulge yourself in until you are of marrying age.”

Erik clapped a hand over his face. It went unnoticed as his cousins began a discussion regarding the different types of princesses in his office.

As it turned out, his gut had been telling the truth about there being something wrong floating about in the atmosphere. His cousins had literally been on his ass all fucking day, from the moment he walked into the center, to his trek into the elevator, all the way to his office as they bombarded him with questions about his ‘princess.’ He had expected some teasing from T’Challa after hanging up on him and the king did not disappoint. But Erik completely forgot to count Shuri in, and together…

The two royal siblings were ruthless.

All he could think about was walking out of his office to find you, so that the two of you could hide out together.

Erik dismissed the thought with a shake of his head and slid his hand off of his face. He found Shuri sitting at his desk and watching him with the most amused expression. T’Challa, however, couldn’t stop smiling as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Erik ignored it all.

“Don’t y’all niggas have better things to do?”

Shuri arched a brow. “By better things, I’m sure you mean working down at the lab with your princess.”

“Yes.”

T’Challa’s grin grew, impossible as it seemed.

“ _No_ ,” Erik corrected himself as Shuri laughed. He glared at the king. “Don’t you have some king shit to attend to, nigga?”

T’Challa released a joyous laugh as he approached his cousin at his desk. He clapped a hand onto his shoulder and gave it a little shake. “Do not be embarrassed, cousin! This is a blessed occasion, and it is a beautiful thing to find love!”

“Even more blessed since I’m sure  _you_  did not freeze,” Shuri chimed in.

“Be happy and be proud!”

Erik shrugged his cousin’s hand off. “Nigga, will you shut your gleeful ass up?! This ain’t Sesame Street!”

The king’s smile faltered, just a bit. He looked between his cousin and his sister. “What is this…  _Sesame Street_? Is this another meme?”

Erik couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped him as Shuri doubled over with laughter, bracing her hand onto the desk to keep herself from falling over. As annoying as they were, he was big enough to admit that they provided good company. This was the warm sense of family he had been searching for his whole life. It was right there in his office, roasting the fuck out of his black ass because a woman was inadvertently softening him up.

Shuri took a calming breath as she looked to her brother. She held a hand out. “Hey, you still owe me my money.“

A soft knocking at the door caught Erik’s ear. The simple mentioning of that bet only meant that the roasting would start back up, so any interruption was welcome. He was more than ready to kick his cousin’s troublesome asses right the fuck out of his office.

“Come in,” he called out.

“I told you that it wouldn’t be long until they started shacking up together, and I was right. Give me my money, furry.”

“ _Please_  come in!”

The door opened a crack before you peaked your head in. Erik immediately pushed his seat back and stood, ignoring Shuri’s snort. He wasn’t sure why he was standing or why he felt that it was so necessary, but he just knew that it was.

“Damn,” you spoke as you pushed the door open and stepped in. Erik glanced at the bag in your hand and the laptop under your arm for a moment, before allowing his eyes to slowly trail up and down your body. You pretended not to notice. “It’s a party in here.”

Erik’s stomach turned at the sound of your voice. You were near the door, nowhere near him, and he was barely able to contain himself as he watched you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and he wasn’t planning on it, because he didn’t want to risk missing anything. He was even smiling a little.  _Fuck_ , he was gone and sprung as all hell.

Shuri glanced at her cousin before standing. “How may  _we_ —“

T’Challa clapped another hand onto Erik’s shoulder.

“—help you?”

Erik watched as you looked suspiciously between him and his cousins, embarrassment filling his belly. But you shook your head before he could say anything.

“I’m on my lunch break,” you began. You held the bag in your hand up for them to see. “I finished those formulas and left them at your desk. I left some notes on them, too, some suggestions. If that’s okay. I don’t want to step on your toes.”

Shuri shook her head with a smile and clasped her hand onto Erik’s other shoulder. “I do not know the meaning of this toe stepping. Not with such a brilliant and capable woman.”

T’Challa shook his cousin’s shoulder with a wide grin,  beaming with pride. “Just  _brimming_  with potential and initiative.”

“A woman who deserves to be loved and cherished with  _every_  ounce of her partner’s heart,” Shuri continued. “Just like a princess.”

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and looked to the ceiling.

Your brows knitted together in the middle. “Did I walk in on something?”

Shuri simply looked to her cousin. “Every ounce, cousin. Every. Ounce.”

A giddy giggle escaped T’Challa, his brows jumping as he watched his cousin.

You took a step back. “Should I leave?”

All three cousins held a hand out to you before calling out a simultaneous, “ _No_!”

You blinked.

Erik pushed his cousins away from himself. “You stay. They leave. Good fuckin’ bye, moderately sized nigga and lil nigga.”

“ _Eh_ ,” T’Challa complained as he made his way out. He gave you a little wink. “What did I tell you about that name?”

“We will finish the conversation later, big nigga,” Shuri began as she followed after her brother. She stood at the door and looked to you, placing a hand onto your shoulder. “And remember:  _every ounce_ —“

“Leave, lil nigga.”

Shuri cackled as she stepped out, grabbing the doorknob to close it behind herself. The sibling’s laughter seeped through the door, a sound that only made Erik’s embarrassment grow as you watched each other. He felt like he needed to explain what you had just walked in on and assure to you that they weren’t making fun of you, but of him. He felt like needed to say something to you as you stood there.

“Hey.”

_Hey?_

He almost smacked himself before you smiled, a sight that eased his nerves.

“Hey,” you greeted. He hummed in response. “T’Challa’s gonna beat your ass for getting Shuri comfortable enough to call you that.”

Erik scoffed, waving a hand to dismiss the idea. “I’ll throw that nigga off another cliff. What you doin’ here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

This simple admission was enough to really make him smile. He didn’t feel the need to fight it this time. “Yeah?”

“I was waiting for you to visit me in the lab,” you continued with a nod. You laughed. “You missed two of your appointment slots, nigga!”

A low chuckle escaped him. He looked away and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. He really didn’t want to explain that he had been stuck in here being roasted by his cousins over how hard and fast he had fallen for you, along with that silly bet. “Sorry, princess, I was caught up in here with my cousins. Nothin’ serious.”

“Oh.” You sounded wary. He immediately looked to you and found a little pout on your face. He wanted to kiss it away. “Was he upset about you missing the meeting yesterday?”

“Nah, not at all.” He waited for the intensity of that pout to falter before continuing. “It’s all good, so don’t stress about it. Matter fact, fuck all that noise. What you got in the bag?”

A smile brightened your face up, the same one that made him think about rainbows and shit.

Rainbows.  _And_  shit.

 _Fuck_.

Erik forced himself to swallow that groan down as you approached him, his eyes stuck on your hips. He licked his lips, biting into the bottom as he took your chin into his grasp and placed a kiss onto your cheek. The soft hum you gave made him hum right back, going as far as allowing his lips to linger on your skin a bit longer than necessary before he pulled away. He wiped the spot he kissed with the padding of his thumb, ignoring the way his heart stuttered when you leaned into his touch.

This cheek wiping and lip wiping after kissing shit was something that he had never even thought of before meeting you, simply because he was thoroughly into marking his territory. It was such a strange thing to come to terms with, but he didn’t view you as his territory and he didn’t wish to claim you as such. You weren’t something to be claimed. You weren’t some _thing_ , period. You weren’t even just somebody. You were you, a certain  _you_  that he would have been happy as fuck to be claimed by because everything about this was different. He just wanted you and wanted you to want him, just as badly.

He had gotten so fucking soft.

 _Rainbows and shit_.

“It’s just pizza.” Your voice brought him back down to earth, forced him to realize that he had been wiping cleaned skin the entire time. You shrugged. “I thought that maybe we could eat together while we finish up that movie from last night.”

Erik nodded and pulled away from you to sit in his cushiony chair. He watched as you set the laptop up on his desk, his head falling to the side to better appreciate the sight of your body. A shameless grunt forced itself out of his body when you bent over. He reached over to caress your thigh with light touches. “Mh-mh. You can’t be bendin’ over like that in front of me, princess.”

“Why? You gettin’ excited?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

A grin stretched across his face. He pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and gripping your thigh with a low moan that made you push yourself up against him. He moved to nuzzle your neck with the curve of his nose, taking a moment to breathe your scent in before you grabbed his face and pulled him up for a kiss. His lips moved slowly against yours, in a way that made you whisper his name before he slipped his tongue into your mouth. The air was filled with little smacking sounds and soft moans that you spilled into his mouth that made him hug you closer. He liked knowing that he was the one to draw those sounds from you.

He placed a final kiss onto your lips before pulling away, his brows jumping when you began to wipe his mouth with the padding of your thumb. His stomach turned with pride as he watched you do this.  _You got that from him_. It took everything within him to keep himself from perching you onto his desk and positioning himself between your thighs, just so he could see for himself how much more you could  _really_  take from him.

Erik’s eyes darkened as you massaged his beard before turning to start the movie. As you relaxed into his hold, he simply… hugged you close, which was fucking with him. Had it been any other woman, he wouldn’t be hugging them. He would have been  _fucking_  them. Hard and rough. Dominating their asses— _thoroughly_. He would have had them bent over his desk and screaming his name for the entire center to hear. Instead, he was hugging you close because he liked having you close. Simple as that. He didn’t want anyone but him to hear you screaming his name when he finally got his hands on you, no one but the neighbors. He didn’t want anyone or anything making their way into whatever this was and fucking it up— _period_ —because  _he liked you._

He liked you a lot.

He was  _this_  close to trying to convince you to hide out in his office with him for the rest of the day, just so he could keep you for himself. He would take all the blame.

“Let me know when I start to get heavy.”

He glanced at the movie, watching as you opened the bag of food before pulling a slice of pizza out. He scoffed. “I’m a real nigga. I can handle your fluffy ass.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, although a little smile did tug at your lips. “Yeah, okay, nigga.”

You took a bite of your pizza and turned around to offer him some. He immediately opened his mouth to take a bite, nodding for you to pull it away and resume watching the movie. He could only watch as you took another bite, chewing real slow as his eyes bore into the way your cheek rounded out with food. He hadn’t looked to that stupid movie once, and honestly, he didn’t want to when he had you sitting on his lap, eating and feeding him pizza.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Erik swallowed, just as slowly and carefully as he had been chewing. “Aye.”

You responded with a little hum.

He bit into his lip, slowly releasing it as his hand drifted to your stomach. He pressed you closer to himself. “I’m really feelin’ you.”

Your cheeks rose as you smiled. “I like you, too.”

All he could do was watch you as the sounds from the movie barely touched his ears. Just hearing you say that fucked with him. Everything that you said and did constantly fucked with him. It made him think that maybe— _maybe_ —being so sprung and going so soft for a woman wasn’t so bad, especially if it was you.

He leaned in to kiss the spot underneath your ear. It was soft and lingering, the way that he knew you loved to be kissed and the way that always made you weak for him. You laced your fingers with his over your stomach with a soft hitch in your breath, drawing a little smile from him that he was sure you felt before he pulled away. He raised a hand to wipe the spot he kissed.

You squirmed in his lap. “Baby, you’re distracting me.”

“Good.”

Sneaking another glance at you and your growing smile, he reclined into his seat to watch the movie.


End file.
